I have not given up on blogging. Other things have occupied my time, such as Jordi and more Jordi. Also, trying to win over his cat, Klaus:
As much as I enjoy sharing my thoughts, I like learning about other people too. I realized how much I miss the golden era of blogging while looking through Instagram (NOW OWNED BY META!). How is that, despite still being in a pandemic, everybody seems to be having an excellent time. IN NOVEMBER? Fuck off.Continue reading “Much ado about not much.”
It’s official: I’m a regular at Canadian Tire. I guess this is because I no longer have instant access to tools, 99% of which belonged to Yann. I’m surrounded by tools every day at work, so on my days off, my hands start shaking from withdrawal. I am slowly building my tool collection: pink, 75% smaller, and 200% more expensive, of course. Stainless steel and black rubber are so unladylike, ew.
My latest trip to obtain made-in-Asia goods from Canadian Tire was for L-brackets and screws to reinforce my fancy bedside table:
It’s a workaround for Ikea’s MALM bed frame, which has poorly thought-out full-length drawers on the sides. If I were to use a regular four-legged bedside table, I wouldn’t have access to my pants unless I move the table! And I can’t be Porky Pigging it. I also need a table to support my nightly hydration operation.
When I moved into my current place, this table had to be cut shorter because it blocked the bedroom door from swinging open. I can’t access the drawers on the other side of the bed either as that side is against the wall, which gives you an idea of how dinky my place is.
Now that I’d made this table functional and sturdy with the addition of L-brackets, I could concern myself with its presentation.
While I have a tool deficiency, I have a sizable collection of art supplies, including a bottle of pouring medium that I’d bought years ago for one project. If you know what you’re doing, the result can be something like this:
I’d painted the wood black. My next plan was to turn the top into a psychedelic pool of colours!
Instead, I turned it into a puddle of despair. I’d tilted and rotated the surface to get even coverage. When this wasn’t happening, I poured more paint into the gaps. It got progressively uglier as I attempted to correct the mistakes.Continue reading “Lower than lowbrow.”
It was shaping up to be a slow week when it seemed that trying Icelandic yogurt (skyr) was the most exciting thing I did all week. The thrill lay within my lactose intolerance: Is this going to cause gastrointestinal distress? Will it be worth it? (It was delicious.)
Then on Friday night, I started painting the modeling clay tongue that I made earlier in the week. I’d pierced it with two barbells while the clay was still soft. To make painting easier, I removed the jewelry and placed them in one of the wells of my paint tray so that they wouldn’t roll off my adjustable desk. I forgot about this when cleaning up: I dumped the tray in the kitchen sink and washed the leftover paint down the drain, along with the barbells.
I was not high when I did this. Truthfully, I hadn’t realized what I’d done until I was high.
Years ago, when I was at the climbing gym with a friend, they suggested that I do an overhanging route next. I tried avoiding it using the excuse, “I’m terrible at those.”
“And that is why you should do them,” was their response. Wow, and I thought my excuse was solid!
Completing an overhanging route at a grade below what I’m typically capable of doing doesn’t fuel my ego in the same way. It’s still fun, but it’s a bonus when you get to be good at something you enjoy doing. I’m not the only one who feels this way; otherwise, competitive sports wouldn’t be a thing. Alas, I am too old and injury-prone to add more awards to my box of equestrian ribbons. I also can’t be spending all my free time training as I sometimes need to use my day off to do things such as visit a Canadian Tire store for some diatomaceous earth and jute, which I did last week.
As much as I mostly enjoy living alone, I’m still finding it challenging to spend the whole day without company. So, the Calgary-based Gator accompanied me to the pest control aisle via WhatsApp. I took photos of some of Canadian Tire’s merchandise and sent it to her, such as a tub of diatomaceous earth. Riveting. A few minutes later, I sent her the squeeze bottle version. I also sent her a photo of one of Canadian Tire’s end caps that displayed bandanas, cowboy hats, and koozies.
I may have crossed a line when I referred to them as Calgary Supplies.
Isolation has been my motivator for sending my friends photos of the following things:Continue reading “Physically distanced adventuring.”